


When You Wish Upon a Star

by LadyMuzzMuzz



Series: Navigating the Stars. [15]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: 1 Year Anniversary!, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fluff, Self-Indulgent, Tiny bit of Angst, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:35:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26479579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyMuzzMuzz/pseuds/LadyMuzzMuzz
Summary: When you were a child, you often prayed to Sparda for a better life.Apparently the Saviour has a peculiar sense of humour.One Year Anniversary Celebratory Story!
Relationships: Vergil (Devil May Cry)/Reader
Series: Navigating the Stars. [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1491467
Comments: 22
Kudos: 136





	When You Wish Upon a Star

You were seven years old when you stopped praying to Sparda. Every night, right before bed, the matrons at the Orphanage would have all children of speaking age kneel at the side of their beds, and offer a short prayer to the Saviour, in thanks for what he had given them. You didn’t feel particularly thankful, in your second/third hand nightclothes, stained and stitched up teddy bear, and your favourite book, now ripped when one of the other children sneaked it from under your bed. Sure you had a roof over your head, and three adequate meals a day, but watching children outside of the orphanage happily walk along with their parents, receiving hugs and being listened to as they chattered about everything. Was it too much to want that? Was it too much to ask for that? 

So, instead of giving thanks, you began praying to Sparda for a family that would adopt you, that would love you, and give you a home of your own. And yet, day after day, week after week, year after year, no one came. Of course, couples came in, but they always went straight to the infant section, cooing over the cute babies (you couldn’t blame them, they WERE cute), and when they bothered to look at the older children, it was always for a less charitable purpose. Boys were sought to be labourers for businesses and farms, girls for childcare. 

One summer evening, while the crickets chirped happily, you made the mistake of voicing your prayers out loud, in the vicinity of Mother Julianna. You were dragged by your ear to the attached chapel, to be lectured at by the Head Matron, forced to confess your sin of daring to ask the Saviour for one small, tiny, insignificant thing.

After that, when you knelt at your saggy mattress each night, you didn’t pray. If you felt like one of the sisters was watching you, you’d mouth nonsense to keep them off your back. After all, if the Saviour was as strong and powerful as the Scriptures said, getting a little girl adopted should be easy for him. But Sparda wasn’t the only entity you could ask things from.

Your bed faced the north side window, and out there, you could see it: Polaris, the North Star. Always shining in the sky, no matter the time of day or year. A constant presence that felt more real than some historic demon that somehow protected humanity, before vanishing to who knows where. So every night, you wished with all your might for a family.

As you grew, you gave up on childish dreams of being adopted, and instead wished that you could get out of the Orphanage. Of course, that didn’t happen, the best you could do was move out of that drabby place, and into your own little home, but you still had to work for the Orphanage, as few other places of work would accept you. You didn’t have the family connections to get a job somewhere,  _ anywhere _ else.

But even so, you still placed your (second-hand, but slightly less saggy) bed near to the north facing window of your cozy home, and every night at the end of the day, as you took off your hood, you would peer at the North Star, and wish for an escape from your dreary, restrictive life.

That’s not to say that you didn’t like taking care of the children, far from it. You loved each and every one of them, tried to give the same care and love you so desperately craved. But you knew there was so much more out there.

And so as you grew up into adulthood, you started wishing for other things. As cheesy as it was, almost like one of those faded romantic fairy tale books, you wished to fall in love. You wished a young man would court you like the other girls in town, to take you out to dinner, or just out for tea. You wished to get married, to have a family of your own, to give them all the love they deserved. But you were a nobody, a whoresdaughter with no family connections, no money, no future. And when the men of the town realized that you weren’t following in your mother’s alleged promiscuous footsteps, they quickly lost interest in you (which you were thankful for). 

And then, one stormy night, while you were on the night shift, you heard the wailing cry outside the Orphanage door. And even though you didn’t know it at the time, the babe, whose white hair shone brilliantly in the lightning, who thrashed in his black woolen blanket as you attempted to soothe him, would change your life.

You weren’t sure why Nero (the name Mother Julianna gave him, you weren’t fond of it at first, but it grew on you) had such an effect on you, but you found yourself bonding with him. Maybe it was the whispers the Sister made about his hair, or his parentage, or the side-eye that prospective adopters gave him that made you fall in love with him.

One night, after you’d had your calming cup of tea, you looked up to see the North Star glowing brightly in the sky, you made your wish. Tonight, it wasn’t  _ you _ that you wished for, it was for someone else, for little innocent Nero. You wished with all your heart for him to not have the same childhood you had, to be adopted by a loving family. By this time, you’d started even giving up on your own wishes, doubting in their power as much as the much vaunted Saviour’s, but you still hoped they would still work for the child that would smile for no one but you. 

And then… on a terrifying night, when even the North Star was blocked by hellfire and ash….your wish for him came true.

_ It just took six years for you to realize your own wishes had come true as well… you just needed to reach out for them. _

* * *

“How do I look?” you zipped up your makeup bag. You had decided to use as little as possible, because it was guaranteed that you’d be crying later on. 

“Gah!” was the response from the wiggling white bundle sitting in her carrier, white taffeta flailing around as the child threw her arms and legs around. She looked adorable in her little white dress, a green sash around her tiny waist, with a matching headband and bow. Her eyes lit up when she saw you, and her chubby arms reached out as you approached.

“Well, there’s no arguing with your taste, is there, Alexandra?” you picked her up as she happily babbled nonsense, before deciding your diamond and sapphire engagement ring was much more attractive. You chuckled as you pushed back her soft white curly hair. She was only a month older than Nero was when you gave him to his father, but this time, there would be no painful separation. In fact, quite the opposite.

A soft knock on the door, and the muffled voice asking “Hey Sunshine, you decent in there?” indicated that the time had come . You looked over your simple, yet elegant white dress, checked your makeup and hair one last time in the mirror, and with a deep breath, you opened the door.

There, standing stiffly and awkwardly in a baby blue tuxedo, was Nero, with his uncle standing behind him, more relaxed, but it was apparent he hadn’t been used to wearing a tuxedo either, even if it was in a lighter shade of his favourite colour. Both of them just stared at you for quite a while as you opened the door. Nero was the first one to break the silence.

“You… you look beautiful…” he managed to say in awe, slightly above a whisper. If it wasn’t for the fact he had his hair carefully combed, you’d risk messing it up by giving his head a motherly kiss.

“And you are looking quite dapper in a suit, perhaps you should wear it more often.” You joked, and laughed as he tried to hide his blush with a rub of his nose.

“It feels weird to wear…” he muttered, as he checked himself over, picking out a non-existent piece of lint, “Like I’m wearing clothes made out of stiff cardboard.”

“That’ll be the starch. Come to your uncle, little bumpkin!” Dante crooned as he reached out. Alex gave a toothless grin, and eagerly accepted being passed over to him. As per usual, she immediately went for the amulet that hung around his neck, entranced by the glittering metal and gem, no matter if it was silver or gold. Nero nervously passed you over a bouquet made up of pink carnations, with peach and orange blossoms speckled throughout it, and you took a moment to savour the delicate scents. In the distance, a church bell merrily rang out, echoing among the garden shrubbery in the courtyard.

“Looks like it's showtime!” Dante cheekily remarked, “let’s not be late!” Nero gently took your hand, and began to lead you to the small chapel ahead, with his uncle following behind. “Please don’t drool too much on the tux, kid” you heard him murmur to the wiggling bundle, “it’s a rental, I can’t afford to lose the deposit…”

*****

You took a peek around the corner to see the small gathering of people, some of them friends and customers of the bookstore, and others associates of the twins. Lady was there, wearing a silky backless green dress that suited her so well, you momentarily forgot that this was probably the first time you’d ever seen her in a dress.

“Oh no” Nero whispered, his eyes settling on a girl his age, dressed in pink ruffles, looking around for something...or someONE. “She’s here! Uncle Dante, I thought you weren’t going to invite her!”

The older man shrugged with a half-hearted apologetic grin “When Patty found about it, she demanded an invitation, you know I couldn’t say no to her when she uses her signature eye-batting technique. I’m a half devil, but even I have my weaknesses.”

“But you know she won’t leave me alone, especially when I’m wearing this!”

You chuckled, “I’m pretty sure she’ll behave during the ceremony, besides you’ll be up front, away from her.” Nero seemed only slightly reassured, and continued to fidget with his suit, waiting for the signal that he was supposed to take his position. 

You looked past the guests, down the aisle to the man standing at your destination. At first, second, and third glance, he was the picture of calm, but you knew better. Like his son, Vergil was nervous, trying to hide it by adjusting his silver cufflinks of his suit far more times than was necessary, and mouthing intelligible words, most likely practicing the recital of his vows for the tenth time that day. He looked as elegant as always, not a hair out of place, and his dark blue tuxedo tailored perfectly, his black dress shoes shiny and unscuffed. You smiled as he closed his eyes and took a steadying breath. It was a relief that you weren’t alone in feeling butterflies in your stomach and heart.

The quiet music faded away into silence, before starting up a different romantic song at a louder volume, the signal that it was time. Nero took a deep breath, looked up for your reassuring smile, and gently gripped your hand as you both began walking down the aisle, towards the altar. And despite all the eyes on you (and Patty’s on Nero, most likely), to you, it was as if there was only one pair of glittering blue eyes on you. Vergil’s adam's apple bobbled slightly as his son gently passed you over to him, before the boy, ecstatic that he had done his part to perfection, took his place behind his father, alongside his uncle and sister.

“You look beautiful,” he said in a hushed tone, as he clasped your hands in his. You couldn’t trust yourself to say anything without ruining your makeup in sobs (You had challenged yourself to make it through the ceremony before bursting out in tears, and you were failing miserably), so you smiled back, and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. 

“Well then,” the pastor said gently, beaming with pride, “are we ready to begin?”

******

The ceremony went off without a hitch, aside from the part where the pastor asked if anyone had any objections, and Alex decided that moment of silence was the perfect time to start squealing and babbling, drawing the laughter of the congregation. You had even managed to keep your tears in, (which could not be said of the audience, with Patty and Lady quickly depleting a box of tissues that they had shared with each other), and even hadn’t flubbed your vows as you shakily placed the wedding band on Vergil’s finger (which was also trembling).

The pastor nodded in approval, “Excellent. By the power invested in me, I now declare you husband and wife.” There was a moment of silence that seemed to go on forever, your breathing, even your heart stopped. For all these years, you had thought perhaps you hadn’t been worthy for Sparda to listen to your prayers, that your wishes never reached the ever distant stars. But now that you thought about it, maybe the Saviour had a rather strange sense of humour. 

The sound of the pastor’s book closing snapped you back to the present, to your happy, wonderful, amazing reality. To your new husband, your new family, your new future.

**_“You may kiss the bride.”_ **

And as Vergil pulled you close for a passionate kiss, the sound of ecstatic clapping coming from all around, you could only think of one thing…

_ Perhaps wishes do come true.... _

**Author's Note:**

> A year ago, I took the plunge and posted _Polaris_ , not expecting much in the way of response. I figured I'd post it, get it out of my system, and then get along with my life. But the most peculiar thing happened. People .... _LIKED_ it. This was most disconcerting. So, I figured you guys had been duped, and were hallucinating that my story was actually... good, so I decided to write another to clear your minds of that delusion. And wrote another. And another. And yet, you guys are still here, almost convincing me that perhaps I might be a good writer.
> 
> So...thank you. From the bottom of my confused but gratified heart!
> 
> There are so many people I'd like to thank, but special shout outs to Synchron, for encouraging with her lovely tags, Lachesissora for her unfailing ability to write a good comment, and for TehRevving for providing tips and tricks on writing steamy smut. And to the rest of you, thank you so much for tagging along, and here's to another year of writing!


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